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Revenge by the Arabs wasn’t dismissed, but noone, except for the Vicario brothers, had thought of poison. It was supposed, rather, that they would wait for nightfall, in order to pour gasoline through the skylight, and burn up the prisoners in their cell; but even that was too easy a supposition.
The Arabs comprised a community of peaceful immigrants who had settled at the beginning of the century in Carribean towns— even in the poorest and most remote—and there they remained, selling colored cloth and bazaar trinkets. They were clannish, hardworking, and Catholic. They married among themselves, imported their wheat, raised lambs in their yards, and grew oregano and eggplants, and playing cards was their only driving passion. The older ones continued speaking the rustic Arabic they had brought from their homeland, and they maintained it intact in the family down to the second generation, but those of the third, with the exception of Santiago Nasar, listened to their parents in Arabic and answered them in Spanish. So it was inconceivable that they would suddenly abandon their pastoral spirit to avenge a death for which we all could have been to blaim.
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